"Black always in the middle. Some places like them in an order, I just tend to fit them in wherever." He admitted, "But yeah, you get to break them. And then take the go after too, hardly anyone pots on the break shot." Richard told him, smiling slightly any enjoying the odd feeling of power. Not power, not really, but the feeling of... being trusted, looked up to. Something like that. "If the white goes in, that's a penalty, and I get two shots. Or you get two shots, if I pot it. Sometimes it happens. If you pot the black before you pot all your stripes or all your solids, that's a penalty too." He said, dusting the top of the cue again with the blue cube of chalk.
"I come here often enough. Once, twice a week. I know a few of the more interesting reguluars, but not by name for the most part. They like to keep their heads down." He shrugged, and offered the boy a half-smile. "Sometimes they like to talk, about nothing in particuluar. Mostly their here for the booze." He held the cue out to Dustin then, picking up the plastic hollow triangle and arranging it on the table, black in the center. "So, your call. Solids, or stripes?"